


Christmas Miracle

by Hekate1308



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Robbie used to love the holidays, even if in the bygone days when the kiddies were small, Morse kept him at work for much longer than he wished to stay on Christmas Eve. Lewis/Hathaway
Relationships: James Hathaway/Robert Lewis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90





	Christmas Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!

It’s Christmas-time once more. Robbie used to love the holidays, even if in the bygone days when the kiddies were small, Morse kept him at work for much longer than he wished to stay on Christmas Eve. He always put his foot down when it came to Christmas Day, though.

Now, though… well, ever since Val died, things haven’t been the same, and not just because the children moved away. After all, he does have regular contact with Lyn, and recently Mark has reached out to him as well, so that is not the reason he just can’t get into the spirit.

It's more… yes, I’s about Val. For as long as she was alive, she was home to Robbie, and Christmas and home have always been linked in his mind.

Still, he usually does his best to ensure that everyone in the station who had family to go home to could do so on Christmas Eve by taking a shift. He continues to be troubled by James doing the same, though. James is young; he should be out there, celebrating with his friends. Finding someone (although Robbie, to his shame, shies away from the thought more often than not because there are some things Inspectors shouldn’t feel or think about their Sergeants) he can call home. 

But James has shown no inclination to do so, despite of Robbie’s hints that he needs a partner. And he does need one – someone to draw him out of this head of his, support his spirits when he has a touch of the existential flu, make him smile during the hard days.

He needs someone to be for him what Val was for Robbie.

(Sometimes, at night, he imagines – guiltily, fleetingly – but he never takes things to far and always chastises himself for the thought.)

Still, James seems content at least, and that is how they spend another Christmas Eve together at the station. Things have been quiet so far (they usually are. Oxford isn’t especially known for its Christmas riots, if you discount the students who sty on during the holidays and occasionally get loud and rowdy, but that’s a job for the bobbies, anyway).

When Robbie raises his head, he can’t help but smile. “Look at that!”

James looks up from his file, clearly puzzled. Robbie points towards the window. “It’s snowing!”

The children loved it when it snowed on Christmas Eve, growing up. It was all they could do to prevent them from running oust the second the first flakes fell.

James, though, simply continues to frown. “Hope that doesn’t get too heavy.”

“Can’t. It’s Christmas. There’s no thing as too much snow at Christmas.”

James makes a noise that plainly shows he highly disagrees.

“What?”

“Can’t see the merit in snow in the city. It’s going to turn into a brown mess within hours, if it hasn’t already started.”

Sometimes Robbie wonders if he was born middle-aged. “Oy, you spoil sport. Think of the kiddies – they’re going to have a grand old time.”

“While their parents are scared stiff they’ll catch pneumonia.”

“Alright, Mr. Scrooge”.

James raises an eyebrow.

“They did show _A Christmas Carol_ on telly the other night.”

“Which one?”

Robbie sighs. “You actually expect me to remember that?”

Thankfully he doesn’t.

Robbie insists on dragging them out to the pub for lunch. They might as well have some fun – things are still going smoothly and no one is going to miss them for an hour or two. And the waitress is always happy to see them. “Inspector Lewis! Sergeant Hathaway!”

“Hello, Rose” he greets her politely, although James only nods.

“Drawn the short straw this year?”

“Something like it” He says pleasantly. “Pity James here. He has to spend the day with me again.”

“Oh, I’d say that*’s the opposite of a problem, isn’t it, James?”

For some reason, he doesn’t react to her gentle ribbing, instead choosing to study the menu as if he didn’t know it by heart already. Robbie frowns as Rose leaves them alone for the time being, thankfully being used to James’ mannerisms.

“So what is it?” he asked. “Existential flu? Just generally being unpleasant to counterbalance the season? Do tell.”

James blinks at him. “I am not being unpleasant.”

He tells himself not to answer in kind. James knows how to push his buttons, always has, that’s part of the problem (another one is that Robbie kind of enjoys it). “If you say so.”

It’s after Rose has brought their pints that James quietly says, “It’s just that… Christmas always reminds me of the things I’ll never have.”

“What?” He’s genuinely surprised. James is still young. There is nothing he can’t have if he puts his mind to it.

“You know”. He jerks his head towards a table near them; a young couple with a small child.

“No reason for you not to have any of this” he tells him firmly, suppressing a comment that James could very well be on the way to all of it _right now_ if he would listen to Robbie for once.

He shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

“Come one” he tries for joviality. “No one you’ve set your cap on?”

“Oh you mean like someone I can go to the moving pictures with? Hold their hand if I dare?” he teases him.

“If that is your thing, I don’t see any problems with it.” A pause. “James” he tries again “I just don’t want you to be lonely, lad.”

“I’m not.” Robbie is taken aback by the audacity of the lie, but Rose brings over their food, temporarily distracting him.

“If you say so…”

“I do”.

They eat in silence for a while before Robbie asks, “So what are your Christmas plans?” He’s driving down to Manchester after the holidays. After all, his grandchild is only two – won’t even remember the holidays yet; and that way, he can stay a whole week there.

“Nothing much. Midnight mass, maybe.”

It doesn’t sound very festive to Robbie. But then, maybe James just doesn’t do festive. All the celebrations he’s ever taken him to, and that included Laura’s birthday party, he’s always ended up alone in a corner eventually.

“Your family will be glad to see you though, sir.”

Ah. _Sir_. “I hope so. Lyn tells me the little chap’s been growing like a weed.”

As always when he mentions his grandchild, James grows strangely quiet. Robbie can’t say if that is because he doesn’t see any children in his future or is genuinely disinterested, but knowing James, it’s probably the first.

Rose brings them cake. “Oh we didn’t –“

“The season’s greetings, Inspector.”

“That’s bribery, that is” he says playfully and she winks at him.

“I think” James confides after she’s left, “She has a crush on your, sir.”

“Lots of better options out there, lad. Hardly think she’d waster her time on me.”

The look James shoots him leaves him baffled – as if he actually took him seriously and wants to dispute what he just said.

Would that mean that…

All the treacherous thoughts Robbie has been trying so hard to suppress raise their heads again.

But no; it can’t be; certainly not.

After all, he’s… well, he’s Robbie Lewis. A copper who’s close to retirement, with grown children and a grandkid.

And this is… James. James, who is young and beautiful and should by all means have people lining up around the block for a chance to be with him.

Robbie swallows. “I – I mean – doesn’t seem likely that anyone would be interested in my that way since me and Laura called it quits.”

They stayed friends, at least. That’s something they’re bother very thankful for.

He suddenly remembers something Laura told him not so long ago. _The world is never devoid of options, Robbie. Maybe you should open your eyes._

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Alright, here’s the question. Does he risk it – and a potential reprimand (or at least considerable embarrassment since James probably would never try and actually have him dismissed) or does he let that go?

He thinks of the other significant others in his life – Val, Laura, hell, in a way, even Morse, since they spent so much time together – and how he never won anything by sitting something out.

And so he clears his throat. “Want to spend Christmas Day together, then? Keep each other company?”

James’ head shoots up, but there is no disgust in his face.

In fact, he looks… Robbie’s heart leaps in his chest – _joyful_. As if he’d be happy to spend so much more time with him. “If you want to, of course –“

“Yes!”

The passionate answer surprises them both, and when James concentrates back on his food, his face is scarlet.

Robbie can’t help himself – he’s always been a tactile sort of person – and reaches out to casually touch his hand. Just barely, really, nothing anyway would notice if they weren’t paying close attention. “I’d like that, too.”

James blushes some more, but for once, it’s not with vexation.

Robbie is utterly captivated.

Rose passes them and shoots them a look that’s a little too knowing for his liking, but then, he doesn’t think she’s one to tell tales.

He clears his throat since it’s dry all of a sudden. Oh God, he’s as nervous as he was decades ago when he first asked out… “Looking forward to it” he tells him.

* * *

This is… not what Robbie picture would happen this Christmas.

In his defence, James Hathaway in his bed is something he has very much tried not to think about for quite some time, so of course he didn’t picture it.

Things started out innocently, he’s prepared to swear that. There was dinner, and sitting too close on the sofa together as they watched several Christmas specials, but then, that’s been part of their routine for a while.

It was when James pointed out that the Christmas wreath Lyn sent him contained mistletoe that things spiralled slightly out of control.

He suddenly remembers that Lyn sent a message with it too – _Have Fun_! – when he’d told her about him and Laura months ago and that apparently everyone in their orbit noticed before they did. Oh well, he can’t really find it in himself to complain as he wakes up to the noises of James making coffee in his kitchen.

It's not even the first time this has happened – James is very familiar with his sofa by now – but well, it is most certainly the first time that he’s had to sneak from Robbie’s bed to do so.

Their bed.

He smiles to himself as he walks to the bathroom.

* * *

James isn’t quite sure how or why this happened.

He knows that, up until – well, the day before yesterday – he was rather hopelessly pining for his boss.

Turns out wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Maybe that is the weirdest thing to get used to – to something good happening to him. Good things don’t happen to James Hathaway, at least not until long after he can actually appreciate them, bust here he is in his – in his _lover’s_ flat, making coffee.

Good God.

Suddenly, warm arms encircle his waist in a way he never dared dream of (alright, maybe he _did_ dream of it. Once or twice. But he always chastised himself for it, without a fail). “Morning, lad.”

“Good morning.”

Robbie nuzzles his neck and he almost jumps. He supposes he will have to get used to this sort of thing, now (although this doesn’t strike him as a problem, not at all). “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome” he manages to say, so that he doesn’t blurt out something insane like _anything for you_ (it might be true but that doesn’t mean he should say it).

“Merry Christmas” Robbie tells him as he hands him the cup, his eyes soft, their hands brushing. Lingering.

James can feel himself blushing once more, but for the first time in a long time he can’t bring himself to car. “Merry Christmas, Robbie” he answers softly.


End file.
